Page 111 of Craving Consequences

“When?” I explode. “When were you trapped in some godforsaken cabin for three days?”

Her lips curl inward between her teeth and she moves suspiciously several feet before mumbling, “Two months ago...?”

“I think I’m going to have a stroke,” Lachlan states, I think, to no one in particular. Certainly not me because I’m barely controlling myself from strangling her.

“Oh my goodness,” Everly throws her hands up, “you both are being so dramatic. It’s a cabin in the woods. What do you expect?”

“I swear to God, if you tell us there’s a serial killer loose in the area and your response is,“he only kills on Tuesdays and I go on weekends,”I may strangle you myself.”

I’m pretty sure I looked and sounded incredibly serious, but the little brat blinks at me twice before breaking into a fit of giggles that she tries and fails to smother behind her hand.

“I’m sorry,” she rushes quickly when my brows furrow. “I’m sorry. It’s just...”

“Oh my God...” Lachlan groans, hand going up to his eyes. “You’re not serious.”

“No. No! Okay, listen...” but she’s laughing too hard to actually make any sense. “There was a guy ... listen!” she blurts, cackling like a maniacal villain when I blow out a growl through my teeth. “There was this guy who used to live in a tent a few miles away from the cabin. No! Hold on!” She puts her hands up when Lachlan starts to take a step towards her like he’s ready to put her over his knee. “Lauren was convinced he was a serial killer on the run.”

We both wait for her to finish, but ... that’s it.

“And?” Lachlan snaps.

Snuffling and wiping her eyes, Everly shrugs. “That’s it. His name was Harold, and he joined a commune in Vermont last year.”

Lachlan drags both hands down his face. “How are you still alive?”

“What do you mean? He was a really nice guy,” she protests.

“I don’t know how to feel right now,” I begin slowly, attempting to process. “You were on a first name basis with a woodland cryptid.”

“Oh, Harold wasn’t his actual name. He said it was better if no one knew it ... for legal reasons.”

“Jesus, it just keeps getting worse,” Lachlan chokes out like he needs divine intervention just to survive this conversation.

“I haven’t even told you about the time I woke up to him smelling my feet because it helped relax him.”

I’m about to explode when she glances between us and bursts into a fit of hysterical giggles.

“You’re fucking with us,” Lachlan grumbles.

Grinning like a little brat, she shrugs smartly, twirls on her heels and skips further down the aisle, calling back over her shoulder, “That’s what you get for thinking I’m that stupid.”

Neither Lach, nor I move for several long seconds. Long enough that Everly has vanished around the corner and the only sound is the rain pounding against the roof and the soft whistle of music coming from the speakers.

It’s a very slow decision that we turn to face each other.

“Why do I feel both incredibly amused and homicidal?” Lachlan asks.

“Because we let a pintsized demon into our lives and now she’s fucking with our heads before taking our souls.”

My friend exhales deeply. “We better go find her before she buys a wheel of cheese and we’re stuck in a flooded cabin with constipated assholes.”

We don’t have to go far before we find her scanning a row of batteries. Even from a distance, she’s so small. So sweet. My jacket is a parachute draped around her shoulders, brushing her knees and falling over her fingers. It makes me want to go over, pull her up into my arms and nuzzle into her cozy warmth,but Thelma Walker and Florence Page are shuffling up in the opposite direction. Their shrewd gazes spot Everly and make an immediate beeline for her.

“Everly.”

Lost in her thoughts, Everly visibly jumps at the sound of her name. She turns to face the pair and her mask drops into place.

“Good morning,” she says through her warm, toothy smile. “Where are we headed today?”

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